A Sinner's Pardon
by Mitsuko Soma
Summary: Chapter 4 up.The Pirates know better than to trust Sinedd. This story follows Stevens as he tries to uncover the happenings behind the Sphere. Set during Season 2. The Genre responds to its current status of progress. Rated for safety.
1. I

Disclaimer: All rights concerning Galactik Football go to Alphanim, France2 and Jetix. I do not own the title. It is also taken from a game called Still Life.

Quote: AFI song "Dancing through Sunday"

Beta Reader: Wildcard (thank you for giving me the green light)

A Sinner's Pardon

"_Step by step we take the lead as drop by drop we start to bleed."_

The task he'd been given could not have been easier. _'Follow the boy around. See where he goes and who he talks to. Look for any links between him and Bleylock and most of all see that he does not become aware of the situation with the Sphere. Sonny wants to be sure that this time, Bleylock doesn't get away.' _Corso's orders had been firm and spoken with such grimness that if Stevens hadn't known him for over 10 years he would have probably thought there was something to actually be worried about. And there was something in a larger scale. They were back on top of Technoid's "most wanted" list; their arch enemy/evil genius had apparently survived his previous rendezvous with Sonny and had returned with the aim of making their lives a living hell, (so far he was managing to do a pretty good job at it) and that was probably going to be the least of their problems when his full plan was _"unveiled"_.

Stevens stooped for a moment to muse on his own thoughts. God, how silly they sounded. For once he was sure that even if Bleylock was "the bad guy", he and the rest of the pirates didn't exactly fit the "heroes" stereotype. Still, if no one else (namely Technoid) was willing to deal with it, then apparently _it_ became a part of their duty ("to steal, defend and protect" as Arty often liked to joke). After all, what could a walking toaster, commanded by a one-eyed old man and his colorblind assistant do against a guy like Bleylock? Not much obviously, otherwise he wouldn't be spending the day outside the Shadows' hotel taking notes every time Sinedd had to go to the bathroom. It was an important job to keep track of the kid, he agreed on that, but it was definitely not the most exciting one.

He looked down at his pad and revised.

**Tech-Notepad**

**Target name: Sinedd**

**Age: 19**

**Affiliation: possibly neutral**

**Observer: V.M Stevens**

**Day: 1 (6.30 a.m. - …)**

**6.30 a.m. – movement sensors detect that the target is awake and going about his morning routine. **

**7.00 a.m. - 8.00 a.m. – target has breakfast at the hotel restaurant, then goes back to his room and proceeds to do his morning workout.**

**10.00 a.m. – 10.30 a.m. – target leaves the hotel and visits a local shop. Buys a communicator recharger and then returns to the hotel room.**

**13.00 p.m. - 13.30 p.m. - …has lunch ordered and eats it in his room. **

**15.00 p.m. - 16.30 p.m. – goes down to the gym and spends the next hour and a half doing exercises. Note that target injured his left ankle during a match against the current Netherball King, Rocket, and is having some trouble walking/running. **

…**.**

'_And that's it! No calls, no visitors, not even a text message… there's something very wrong in this picture. He's way too isolated. It just doesn't add up. Bleylock's no small fry, the Sphere is too important to him and its misuse could put an end to everything he had in plan. Why Sinedd of all people? He's… well he's just another football player with an __**attitude**__; __I doubt this makes him qualified and trustworthy enough to… ' _

"He doesn't know." The whispered statement hung in Stevens' mind like a warning sign. _'Of course he doesn't know! Why didn't I see this sooner? There must be a third link, someone that takes orders from Bleylock and glamours Sinedd to act as the ring leader.' _The grimace on the pirate's face was almost obscene now. He wasn't the type of person who scared easily, but the idea of something this vital avoiding their radars was almost blood chilling. There wasn't much that could escape a pirate's view, that was common knowledge, and during his long years of work in the field, nothing ever had! _'Figures, after all this time it wouldn't be something small either, but a whole person? Could we have gone this soft during the truce with Technoid?'_ He lowered his head in his hand and went back to observing the tracking device. _'Sony, you'd better get on to this quick, or we're all in hell of a trouble!'_

Sinedd pressed his palms on both sides of his ankle and flinched. The swelling had gone down a bit, and the pain wasn't as bad as it was the day before. He sighted mentally. Running was out of the question for a few more days at least. He limped out of the improvised sport center and headed for the staircase. It wasn't the wisest and definitely not the healthiest choice to push his feet at a time like this but something in his head just didn't let him give into his body's requests. Pain became frustration which in turn morphed into motivation. It was how his entire being ticked. There weren't many things that could get to him, he'd seen to it himself. Even after the match with the Pirates, when gloom had covered every aspect of his teammates' lives, all he could think about was the Sphere and how he'd march over every single player that stood in his way. Especially Rocket! The idea of demolishing every ounce of self-esteem the current Netherball king had was what kept him going. So what if the Smog was gone? He was nowhere near done being a football player. Revenge wouldn't be the best word to describe it, since Rocket wasn't exactly the one at fault of Sinedd's downfall in life. He smirked as he gripped the railing. But then again, when did he ever need a reason to _hate?_

Stevens looked at the glowing digits at his wrist watch/communicator. 21.53 p.m. in Genesis time, late evening. The trip to the Sphere took around an hour, if one knew the right way and made no unnecessary stops. But Sinedd wasn't just another spectator. He ran the thing! Logic suggested that he had to be there early, to start it and see that there were no screw ups when the real show began. His leg injury also added to the traveling time, but Stevens knew for certain that Sinedd wouldn't let it become an obstacle, even if he had to be drastic about it. His face turned into a grimace of disdain. One of the things that all pirates were famous for was that they were neutral when it came to football. They never kept a bad vibe for any of the competitive teams and always did their best to play fair. That had been a fact until Sinedd joined the Shadows. Stevens had tried, no really tried, to ignore, at best, the boy's behavior. Needless to say, he failed miserably. There were so many things about Sinedd that could strike a person as just plain _wrong._ He was aggressive beyond reason, preferred to play dirty and would never **ever** miss on a chance to hurt another player. His sadistic nature was part of the reason why Stevens had developed a strong dislike for him and the other part he accredited to the boy's almost antisocial behavior. On the few occasions when they had been engaged in conversation, Sinedd had failed to acknowledge the pirate's presence or had acted as if he was speaking to a lower life form. Remembering the last part made Stevens' blood boil. He quickly played over parts of their last match in his mind. It soothed him down, knowing that he had some sort of payback, that he had shown Sinedd, what real football was all about. The Shadows had been pitiful, incapable of even protecting their own goal. It nagged him that his team was disqualified, but knowing that they'd won fair and square was enough of a prize as it was. Having regained his self-composure, Stevens let a small smile cross his lips. It had felt good to win.

The target, it was easy to think of him that way. It made him less angry, kept his mind on the job, heck it even had a professional ring to it. But it still didn't feel right. Something about the air surrounding the mission, it was as if Sinedd corrupted it with his presence.

Stevens shook his head and proceeded to quietly following Sinedd's footsteps. His thoughts were becoming too personal and he knew that this was going to get in the way of his work. It was one of the first things he learned as a pirate. '_Passion gets you killed' _Sony had said tohim back in his rookie days. _'If you want to be a pirate, to live this life of no rules, then you must restrict your emotions. Think twice before you act and never, even in the most appealing of situations, let your guard down'_.

Stevens snapped out of the flashback, feeling the absence of sound. He could still hear Sinedd's footsteps, but they were getting weaker. He'd put too much space between them and now had to make up for it.

Stevens smiled at himself as he rushed after the boy. And then he tripped. There was a loud clang followed by a moment of silence that lasted longer than the pirate had wished. He could now hear Sinedd's footsteps nearing. Stevens looked up from his position just enough to see Sinedd's silhouette coming from around the corner. The boy just stood there staring at the 10 feet of empty space that separated them, and saw right through him. No not metaphorically, but literally speaking. It was intriguing how people's minds had ways of finding comforting stories about strange noises and such. If you can't see it, then it doesn't exist, if it doesn't exist, then it can't hurt you - simple and _wrong_. But what was even more intriguing was how such nonsense remained ever so popular even in days of technological utopia. It was as if some part of the human nature needed to lie to itself in order to remain human (or sane, whichever came to thought first). Stevens had learned all about this during the countless _'breaking and entry'_ experiences he'd had in the past. What was to follow was a classic. The boy would look around in every possible direction, several times and then after making sure that nothing (visible) was following him, he'd just think up a story that explained the noise and be on his way. Stevens' smile turned into a grin as he watched Sinedd mimic step one and two. The said grin melted into utter horror only a moment later, when the boy began to limp towards where he was now standing.

"Who's there?"

Sinedd's high pitched voice made the pirate's blood run cold. Of course there were people who were more distrustful and preferred to double check before coming to a conclusion, but that wasn't the situation right? Sinedd was just a kid after all, he didn't have a reason to fear or doubt anything. That was all a 'grown up' thing.

The boy took several more steps and then limped back around the corner. Stevens waited a few more moments before allowing himself to breathe again…


	2. II

Words from the Author: Yes, it is not discontinued. Apparently I'm getting somewhere with this story, I'm just not sure where exactly, yet. Also this chapter is very likely to sound a bit different from the previous one. I'm evolving. I think. It's probably a good idea to finish this fic sooner, in order to avoid further stylistic differences.

**II**

The noise was overwhelming. Stevens had scratched the option of ever putting any sort of bug in the Sphere, thanks to this fact. Not that he needed it anyway. Sinedd only talked about football, which would explain why he didn't talk all that much to begin with. After all, why say it when you can either play it or watch it – the latter being the case. Still, too many people were around and Sinedd conversed even if only briefly. One of them could be the link. The question was who. Right now Sinedd was talking to a Cyclops. The Cyclops wanted something; Sinedd shook his head in disagreement. The Cyclops walked away and Stevens used the opportunity to grab Sinedd's attention, namely by turning off his stealth mode right in front of the boy.

Sinedd's eyes went wide. No doubt he believed them. Technoid. The things about the Pirates blowing a hole in the Shadows' Archipelago, and destroying the Shadows' smog – the whole package of make-believe that Bleylock was hurling at them.

"And what do you want?" He spat it out, putting extra emphasis on the 'you', arching his eyebrows a little.

Stevens just nodded towards the Sphere.

Sinedd took a few seconds considering him. His facial expression relaxed and he made a gesture towards the Technobot announcer. The bot spun over and situated itself in front of Sinedd.

"Announce him."

There were theatricals – a few words for Stevens and many more for Rocket, he expected it that way. The life of a pirate was always ungrateful. You had to learn to be your own fan club, otherwise… well if you weren't self-sufficient, than you just didn't tango with the Pirates. That's just the way things went.

He forced his way to the Sphere. Not that there was anyone trying to stop him, it was just a habit, a guard he had to wear when exposed to public attention. He looked up for a second before he entered. A big screen showed that Rocket was already inside, dribbling.

Stevens still felt the pang of pride from the Pirates' last victory against the Shadows. The doors opened and he entered. Rocked still dribbling, looked up at him as the ball disintegrated. Sinedd was probably preparing the field.

Stevens made a hand gesture, greeting the other. Rocked just smiled. A little. There as something off here. For playing a sport as brutal as Netherball both Sinedd and Rocket were acting suspiciously relaxed. Stevens had thought of this before but now he was aware that he would experience it firsthand. This place was a complete mindfuck.

He took his position facing Rocked and waited for the signal. The ball appeared and they both made for it. Rocked gained control. He passed it from foot to foot a bit too quickly for Stevens to catch on time and before he knew it he heard the sound of a lid closing behind him. The noise outside was probably unbearable now that Rocket had scored. Stevens shook his head slowly. This day had already proven too long.

"I'll have another one."

Stevens put down that excuse for a glass he'd been offered, and gave the bartended a look that said "sober enough for another round."

"Sure thing mate."

He looked across the bar right at the table in the dingy corner where Sinedd was sitting. Yes, dingy. It seemed somehow hard to believe, but the boy had chosen to sit at a table right under the staircase which led to the upper floor restaurant. Stevens took note that Sinedd was trying a little bit too hard not to be noticed. '_Well, shame burns harder than any fuel, or so they say.'_ The bartender put the glass in front of him and he had it in one go.

He scanned the room. There weren't many people around, which was a strange thing for a bar at 1 a.m., but then again if the bartended treated everyone with the same caution she treated Stevens, then no wonder the place was empty. Stevens had hardly got his second drink when the she started giving him lip.

"You know what, I had a really bad day, so I just won't waste neither your time nor mine. Give me a bottle of your strongest Wambasian wine. I swear it's the last thing I'm having tonight."

The bartender gave him a look similar to the one he received earlier from Sinedd. He was being examined again. His trustworthiness, that is.

The bartender, after eyeing Stevens' drinking capacity, took a bottle from the shelves behind her. It was definitely not the strongest wine she had in stock, and Stevens knew that. If he wanted to get wasted he wouldn't have come to a public place, he was just following Sinedd around, waiting for an appropriate time to approach him, undisguised, and leech the information out of him. Considering his options, he was unlikely to get a better shot. A secluded place, not too many people around, although, as Stevens noted, the bartended seemed the type who had both a conscience and a good memory. But if necessary he could wash now the only thing important was to get Sinedd to talk, which wouldn't be that difficult, depending on what kind of drunk he was. An angry one would make things messy, but would be very liable to provocations; a fun drunk, an unlikely option, would be like a walk in the park, he would probably tell his entire life story, including the things he shouldn't be spilling and not even notice that he's doing it; a moody drunk, that's what Stevens believed to be dealing with, so he had prepared a sappy story in order to get the boy's sympathies; and the sleeping drunk, very emotional, hyper even, until he hits something soft and falls asleep instantaneously – either way he was in for quite a show. After all, the smog made influence twice as strong as and much quicker than normal drunkenness.

He hadn't noticed it, but while he was reminiscing, he had began to tap his fingers on the bar. The bartender was looking at him. Stevens smiled and winked at her, taking the bottle and making his way to Sinedd's table.

"May I sit down?"

Sinedd raised his gaze enough to look at Stevens. He was sitting back in one of those couches that were so soft, it made you want to remain in its custody forever. Stevens looked at the glass in front of Sinedd. Half empty. Beer. Seeing as politeness wasn't helping his case, he waved the bottle he was holding.

"You know, she isn't letting you have another one and I'm not the type who drinks alone."

Sinedd nodded towards the couch opposite his and Stevens sank into it.

"I'm Eric by the way."

He bent forward and extended his hand across the table.

Sinedd just looked at him again before saying:

"You know who I am."

"Do I?"

Stevens made it look as if he was having a hard time seeing properly and Sinedd quickly grasped the idea - dark place, guy wearing glasses. He bent forward, letting his face come further into the light. Stevens then pretended that he didn't know who Sinedd was at first, remaining still, with the cannon expression of nonchalance he had cultivated over the years. Sinedd smirked. Stevens took it as his cue and exclaimed a little too loudly:

"Ohhh, you're that guy from… that thing!"

Sinedd gave a laugh.

"Don't tell me you're not a fan, because everyone is." He emphasized 'everyone'.

Stevens mumbled - his act already in work.

"No, it's just that with a job like mine, you don't get a lot of spare time for sports and just entertainment in general."

"Oh." Sinedd seemed intrigued now." So, what do you work?"

"Cardio-surgeon. Toughest job in the world. Nowhere nearly as well paid and definitely not as gratifying as they make it out to be in pre-med."

"But I thought doctors were well paid. Especially surgeons." Sinedd's body language and tone revealed he was buying it.

Stevens lowered his head a little and smirked. He took out the bottle and poured some of it in an empty glass he had brought for himself.

"Yes, that's true, but when I said that it doesn't pay enough I meant that the money I earn doesn't make up for the things I had to sacrifice to get it."

He paused and took a sip from his wine.

"Ten years in school. Ten years of no sleep and no fun and no friends and…well ten years wasted on books and human intestine. Kid, do you know that medical students are at the top of suicide statistics?"

Sinedd's eyes dilated and his lips parted a little. He didn't know. Neither did Stevens. He was making it up as he went along.

"Well I don't fall under that statistic, I do under another though. Broken marriages due to career strife – doctors, scientists, lawyers – people who spend their entire lives working. You can't plan your work schedule, so you end up not seeing that significant half, for days at a time, and when you do – the time is never enough. Marriage is supposed to be about being together for the rest of our lives, but if that's the case then I think I was more married to my work than to my wife. It's not that I don't love her anymore…"

He made another pause, looked down at his glass and took a significant sip.

"It's that she forgot how to love me."

Sinedd was just staring now.


	3. III

**III**

"And then?"

Fact - Sonny had never been one for dramatic pauses. Neither was Stevens for that matter, but then again, he wasn't much of a story teller either. He'd pick up at a random moment he considered the beginning and then start recalling the most important events, and since he never knew what might ring a bell in Sonny's head, he'd rewind, skip through some parts, then after some more consideration he'd rewind again to some other point of possible interest. The result was a mess of a story, with huge pauses during said reminiscing of the storyteller.

This could never go down in a report, both Sonny and Stevens knew it, and that is why they were having this conversation of sorts. Stevens felt like he was being examined again. He was getting tired of it. He hadn't joined the pirates to feel the constant pressure of someone's gaze on his neck; on the contrary, the pirates offered a guilt free pass for all occasions. As long as you followed some basic moral code (involving rape, unnecessary violence, and murder – those who tried any of the above, were never heard of again) then no one would judge your actions openly.

"He's nineteen; you know how kids are at that age. Remember that time when we let Artie join in on a drinking con…"

"Don't get off track; this is a report, not a coffee break."

Stevens brought his eyebrows together mimicking his own thoughts' attempt of regrouping into a coherent sentence.

"Well, the Smog was helping but on a glass of beer and some wine, he'd be drunk for half an hour at most, and I needed more time, so I gave him an accelerator. A small one rea…"

"You gave him drugs!"

Stevens threw his hands up in defensive mode.

"One. Small. Pill. That's all I gave him. Just to keep him under influence a bit longer. You know it's harmless. And he never saw me put it in the bottle, so there's no chance he'd make a habit of it."

Sonny had his head in one hand and was drumming with the other on the table.

"Drugs."

He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"And. Then what happened?" It came out as if he was having a hard time even thinking of it little less pronouncing it.

_03:37 Genesis Time, the previous evening, _

Stevens felt thankful to whoever had typed 'windy' for the weather on Genesis that evening. He wasn't drunk, but he did feel the influence of the liquor. He'd worked out a phrase for it, over the years, 'volcano drunk' – it is what he called when conscious of his decisions, but with his entire inner being on fire. It was discomforting unless you had something to cool off with. He'd gathered quite the fame as a rookie pirate for his performances in this state. He'd usually find the nearest bathtub, fountain, swimming pool or whatever large container of water was around; enter it, then fall asleep in it. This resulted in several near drownings, a fact which everyone else seemed to find highly amusing. Stevens of course was entitled to a different opinion since he'd had more mouth to mouth with men than with women back in those days. He shivered at the thought. Ten years later it still disturbed him.

He failed to suppress a yawn, and then he heard Sinedd stumble out of the doorway.

"You ok?" Rhetoric. Sinedd was anything but ok. In fact if Stevens had had a camera with him, he'd have taken a pictured and placed it in a slang dictionary for further explanation on the term 'messed up'. He felt the pang of pride again. After the match against Rocked he needed something to boost up his ego, and what better way to do so than see a major jerk-ass like Sinedd in a state of despair.

Sinedd however had another thing on his mind. Or there was simply more to his character than Stevens was willing to acknowledge. Sinedd was laughing – a real, heartfelt, or so it seemed, laugh.

"Something funny?"

Sinedd had one hand placed on the doorframe for support and the other shakily pointed at Stevens.

"Yo- you… you looked like…" he had another burst of laughter until he continued with a huff " one of those fish at the arcade where you use… an electric rod to catch it and win points." Sinedd laughed again, this time sounding more like himself.

Stevens looked at his reflection in the glass frame of the building. It wasn't quite clear but his eyes looked smaller than usual, even with the glasses on, and with his black expression as a drunk, he could easily have passed for a cartoon character. Just then he yawned again. This led to another burst of laughter from Sinedd.

"Alright, I get it, I look like a fish." He moved away from the building and let the wind cool him off a bit more. Sinedd followed. Stevens looked at him as he made some quite capable steps, after which he leaned on the nearby railing. Definitely drunk.

"I should get you home. Are you staying nearby?"

Exactly two blocks away. A twenty-minute walk from where they were standing right now. Stevens knew a total of nine different routes to Sinedd's hotel, and all possible dead ends. It was the first thing that every pirate on a stake out had to learn to do. Know the terrain, pros and cons, and then proceed to gathering information on the target.

"It's near. I'll be fine." Sinedd wobbled his hand at Stevens.

"Right. Come on." Stevens caught Sinedd by the shoulder as if to support him.

"Which way?"

Sinedd pointed at a direction and with some help from Stevens began the steady walk home. The night was cool and pleasant for an outing. Stevens had one hand on Sinedd's shoulder and the other in his pocket, rummaging for the 'soberness' pill, as they called it. He need to get out of this state fast, otherwise he wouldn't be able to question Sinedd as to what he knew about the purpose of the Sphere. Just then Sinedd shuttered a little. Stevens stopped, and tightened his grasp on Sinedd's shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

Sinedd's eyes were moving fast as if he was looking for something.

"I just… don't feel very well."

Stevens placed a hand on Sinedd's forehead.

"You're cold."

Sinedd's eye-movement stopped. Then he shuttered again. Now he was just staring into nothing. Stevens felt his insides gather somewhere between his sternum and spleen, possibly displacing the liver. If Sinedd was having some kind of seizure then he'd be in huge trouble. An act was one thing, but Stevens was definitely not a doctor – having been on the recipient side of the breath of life on numerous occasions didn't exactly qualify him in a situation where no one was bleeding. Bandaging that he could do, but anything that couldn't be seen on the surface was clearly beyond his personal knowledge and capability.

And now he was scared for Sinedd, and more specifically for what would happen to him if something were to happen to Sinedd. Sure, no one would really miss the kid, but it was still against pirate moral to drug children and then let them die from the unknown chemical reactions said drug had caused after merging with their flux. Sinedd was cold, but Stevens was now frozen stiff. Then Sinedd began coughing. He was blinking again, a good sign according to Stevens, and he was coughing.

"Kid, are you ok?"

Sinedd turned his head around slowly.

"I'm ok, it's just the smog."

He continued walking, a bit slower than his previous pace.

"Has this happened before?"

Stevens was used to the shift of climate that a situation might take so he rebuffed his previous sense of fear, and donned his doctor act back on.

"Yes, but it's the smog, everyone knows what it causes to human players."

Sinedd was slowly walking away and Stevens was following him at a few steps distance.

"I don't."

"Well, we get sick."

Stevens arched an eyebrow.

"Could you be more specific?"

"I…I feel sick, like I can't breathe, my muscles feel weak, I can't walk, talking's hard…everything's hard."

They walked a bit more in silence.

"So, do you have a diagnosis for me, doc?"

"Toxicology is not my field."

Stevens could see the hotel now. He had to work quick. Sinedd sounded like he was getting out of it.

"Sinedd, would it be too much to ask, but what will you do now that the Shadows have disbanded?"

Sinedd sniggered.

"Are you sure you're not a paparazzi, looking for a new scoop."

"Hey." Stevens had his hands in the air immediately.

"I'm just trying to start up the conversation. We were having such fun a while ago, and now you're killing the mood with your broodiness."

"I'm not broody. And I'll have you know that the end of the Shadows doesn't mean the end of Sinedd. I have things and another club will probably pick me up soon."

So much ego in just one sentence.

Stevens used his chance to tackle him.

"Whatever you say kid, you're the boss." Said half laughing.

"Hey!"

Sinedd was clearly upset now.

"Whoa there, hold the fountain. I'm positive that another team will offer you a place (as a spare at best), no need to get upset, I was just wondering what you're doing now, in the 'in between jobs' time."

"I have things to do and besides…" Sinedd nodded at his left leg. Stevens had almost forgotten Sinedd's injury.

"Hmm…"

They were walking towards the hotel again.

"How long has it been in a cast?"

"Two days."

"And you played with that leg, are you out of your mind?"

Sinedd stopped.

"What I do, I do for my own reasons, and I do not need to explain them to anyone."

This did not sound good. It was a sober statement.

They continued walking.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend."

"You're just like them, you know…" There was irritation in Sinedd's voice.

'_Here it goes - another teenage angst rant.'_

But it never came.

Feeling suicidal Stevens retorted:

"Like whom?"

He walked up to Sinedd and stood in front of him, like he had done a few hours ago, in the Sphere. He was wrong; Sinedd's eyes clearly showed that he was still drunk. How he managed to talk straight went beyond reason.

Sinedd gave him a look which read that if he had the strength for it he'd beat Stevens so bad his remains would be unrecognizable. He was obviously angry as he started coughing again. Stevens offered Sinedd a hand but he pushed it away.

"I'm fine; I can walk to the hotel myself." Said through teeth.

"Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I followed, just to make sure."

Stevens put his left hand back into his pocket and restarted his search for the pill. He found it and swallowed it quickly, then looked back at Sinedd. His eyes were still angry but he was obviously trying to keep himself under control, for his own health's sake.

_03:58 Genesis time, Shadows hotel_

The lobby was empty, at this time of night. The Shadows were feverish opponents of gambling, so the hotel they were staying at had no casino. It looked strange to Stevens, most hotels on Genesis were every gambler's heaven in the early hours of the day – pretty girls, liquor on the house_…"What the hell am I doing here?" _The pill needed some time to kick in.

"That's it." Sinedd had one hand placed on the staircase railing. "You can shoo now."

"You're taking the stairs."

"Yes."

Stevens smiled calmly.

"No."

He pulled the collar of Sinedd's jacked and dragged him to the elevator. Sinedd protested of course, not that it would have done him any good.

He placed his hand over the cipher blot and for a second there he was going to dial Sinedd's floor when he remembered.

"Which floor?"

Sinedd was looking at him with his cannon mixture of annoyance and budding anger.

"Listen, you're tired and so am I, but nevertheless I wouldn't be much of a physician if I let you climb those stairs in your state. Now let's get you to your room and into bed. And then I can safely assume that I have not in any way neglected my responsibility by helping you get home safely. I am, after all, in a way responsible for your current state of being."

Lots of words. Sinedd's expression became confused. After processing it he obviously decided that he liked what he was hearing and said the number to his floor. Stevens dialed and they both waited for the elevator. Sinedd was growing more tired by the second. He had got into the elevator by himself, but he didn't protest when Stevens helped him leave it. Stevens forgot to ask which was the room number and just made sure that Sinedd was moving down the hall towards his it. He walked slowly, limping every now and then, it reminded Stevens of the walk of a prisoner on a death row.

Of course, the Technoid Government had overruled the death sentence, but he'd still seen it in movies, depicting the old days, before the Great Flux War. The one that was meant to end all wars, or so people said, he was still a teenager when it all happened and he wasn't much into politics then, nor now when he thought about it, really. Stevens was becoming lost in his musings, so lost, he hadn't noticed when Sinedd had stopped walking. The door he was standing in front wasn't his. Stevens walked up to him.

"Is this is it, kid?"

Sinedd was just staring into nothing again. Stevens felt his throat dry up. He waved a hand as if to get a response, but Sinedd gave none. He snapped his fingers, clapped his hands, nothing. Just when he was beginning to get worried again he saw that Sinedd' expression had changed again, this time his eyelids were half closed. He seemed drowsy, as if he was falling asleep. He seemed sad.

"Kid?"

Sinedd's lips parted a little before saying:

"Eric, how do I know if I'm having a nervous breakdown?"


	4. IV

**IV**

Yet another fact, although not statistically supported, is that the majority of people do not enjoy the prospects of being faced with a question of possible importance which they cannot answer. Stevens never had himself as one of the many, but on this account, he'd make an exception. '_Next question, please.'_ He was quickly growing uneasy with this feeling of hopelessness which Sinedd was now emitting. He was never one to comfort the hurt, his nature was too pessimistic for that sort of thing. It was the one lie he couldn't say with a straight face, and to be frank, the one life he really didn't want to tell.

But that's not what Sinedd was asking about, right? He wanted to know if all was as unwell in his head as he thought it was. He was just too scared to admit to himself the void his life had become. Because that's what Stevens saw, or rather didn't see, when he looked at him. Sinedd looked leeched out of his essence _'right ''soul''..phhh…maybe if I was Benett…'_ and for once wasn't looking back provocatively. His eyes were too busy with things he couldn't see, probably thinking where he went wrong.

Sinedd was tall and well build, probably taller and stronger than most boys his age. Nevertheless, the word 'kid' popped into Stevens' mind whenever he looked at him. Even with nature's help, Sinedd wasn't there yet, still not a man. His question made this clear. Right now, he was a boy waking up in the middle of the night feverish, with an ache in his stomach, crying for mommy to come and undo the pain.

It's what differentiated them – children and adults – coping with pain. That's what he was doing now. He was looking for consolation from the alpha – the parent, the leader, the protector… Stevens knew that Sinedd was alone, that he had been alone for a long time and that it was probably his own choice for the most part. Sinedd held huge pride in his achievements, he didn't act like the type to share the credit with anyone, be it teammates, coach or friends. So he had none of the above. Sure, he played 'for' the team, but it was a matter of debate whether he actually played 'with' the team. And authority was out of the question, unless undeniably supreme, which could never happen, making Nexus a weak constant to depend on, and therefore disvaluing him. As for friendship, that would mean for Sinedd to agree that there is someone even partially as good as him. Stevens didn't hate to admit that in the last department they were quite alike. Making friendships wasn't his specialty either, but life teaches and he'd learned.

Still, there were things which remained beyond him and this was one of them. He was being asked to do it, that '_defend and protect' _malarkey, but he didn't know how to.

They'd met before and talked, but never like this. Sinedd was always above, he owned, he didn't beg. It was in the way he stressed pronouns, smiled without the slightest sign of amusement, the way he looked for the flaw, that would make him the better one. Stevens looked at Sinedd's eyes again. He should have felt sympathy. Sinedd hadn't had an easy life. '_But that doesn't mean he should make it difficult for others as well.'_

Bottom line was Stevens didn't like Sinedd.

"Give me your key card."

Sinedd looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time ever and remained this way, gaze fixed on the face before him. Stevens was becoming more irritable by the second. That's not what he was assigned to do. He was no shrink; he didn't see why he should deal with this, when he could just go through it. It's not like Sinedd would try and stop him. And at this point he really didn't care if Sinedd believed his doctor act or not. He'd get what he came for and that's that. He held out his hand.

"Come on."

Sinedd put his own hand in his pocket and produced the key.

"Good boy." Stevens held Sinedd's hand under the elbow. "Now, which room's yours?"

Sinedd walked two doors down and stood before the third. Stevens checked the card in the lock and via habit examined the hallway. Two cameras. He'd take care of those later.

Sinedd took in the contents of his hotel room. His bed, the sofa, the computer, the discarded jersey on the floor. He knew for certain that as of next week the only thing among the listed that would remain his was the jersey. They were still his though, for the time being. He'd learned to claim kin with his possessions rather quickly over the years. He didn't have all that much to begin with, even though he was never left lacking, but like most orphans he had two on-going issues – one with private property and one with abandonment. He'd seen to the second, or so he thought. In the greatness of his own light he had forgotten that he was a part of a team. And now he was no more. He had often said in the past that he needed no one, a claim he still owned up to, even in his current intoxicated delirium. He was finally thinking of the things that could have been and the things which probably would never be. He hated it now, his ''stand alone'' complex. He'd disregarded his team and his coach, so they left him, just like the smog did. It was his fault for being so arrogant and needy. If he hadn't … no, it wasn't his fault! It was the Pirates, they did this! On purpose. Because they were a bunch of losers looking for a way to qualify. They weren't as good as the Shadows, so they'd cheated. _"destroyed the smog …" _

Sinedd's fists clenched.

"In you go."

Someone pushed his back and Sinedd's mind pushed forward a name.

"Erik."

"Yes?"

He had just said it to validate the guess. Sinedd wasn't quite sure what he'd been doing for a while. There was the vague memory of climbing the stairs of "The Sting" and the sensual feeling of the wind on his face, so he guessed he'd walked home. That man had said he was a doctor, a recent divorcee, and a workaholic. He stared in an attempt to solidify the other's image. If someone were to question him, twenty years from now of the events of this evening, he would without the smallest feeling of a doubt testify that this man was exactly who claimed to be.

Sinedd's attention was reverted back to his possessions as he walked further into the room. The door closed behind him.


End file.
